


somnolentus durum sexus

by ghostofgatsby



Series: with a heart unsatisfied [2]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Biting, Collars, Kissing, M/M, Morning Sex, Praise, Rough Sex, Sleepy Sex, Verbal Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9433262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: Ross wakes, groaning lowly, to the feeling of Trott's lips marking bruises on his neck. Trott's cold hands bracket his hips, fingertips brushing goosebumps at the line of hair trailing from his navel. His touch is teasing, and the quick realization that they’re alone only increases Ross’ desire. Smith must have left for church already- the bed is colder and bigger.“Want you,” Ross murmurs, drowsy with sleep still, eyelids half-open in the morning's darkness. “Please, Trott.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> or, “sleepy, hard sex” in Latin  
> wooo, Latin that’s probably incorrect!
> 
> Tross, sleepy sex, a different Sunday than before  
> prior discussions/negotiations, waking someone up with kissing/sex
> 
> cw: Sleepy Sex, Biting, Collars, Bruises/marks, immobilization/pinning down, mention of bondage/restraints, Verbal Bondage, mention of oversensitivity, light dom/sub themes  
> If I need to tag something, let me know.
> 
> reblog: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2017/01/23/somnolentus-durum-sexus-ghostofgatsby

Ross wakes, groaning lowly, to the feeling of Trott's lips marking bruises on his neck. Trott's cold hands bracket his hips, fingertips brushing goosebumps at the line of hair trailing from his navel. His touch is teasing, and the quick realization that they’re alone only increases Ross’ desire. Smith must have left for church already- the bed is colder and bigger.

“Want you,” Ross murmurs, drowsy with sleep still, eyelids half-open in the morning's darkness. “Please, Trott.”

Trott kisses along his collarbones. His teeth slowly bite down, and Ross shudders. Their legs shift beneath the sheets, Trott's between his, their feet intertwined. Thankfully he’s wearing socks, or else Ross would be shrieking at the ice cubes Trott has for toes.

Trott's hand cups him through his boxer briefs, rubbing slowly. Ross lets out a long exhale and closes his eyes.

"Tell me," Trott goads. He presses a kiss to Ross’ pulse point and nips his earlobe. Ross shivers at the warm breath at his temple. "What do you want, Ross?" he asks quietly.

"Want you like this. Want you, Trott..." He forces himself to move from his relaxed position, parting his legs further for Trott's hand to continue stroking him.

“Mmm…” Trott kisses him languidly, his lips warm and slightly chapped. His free hand gently pushes Ross' shoulder into the mattress. Ross whimpers into his mouth when his thumb presses on a several-days-old bruise.

A smile teases at the corner of Trott's mouth as he pulls away. "Shhhh...be still."

Ross watches through half-lidded eyes. His chest rises and falls in even measures, but he remains composed and relaxed. Trott slowly pulls the sheets away and bites bruises across Ross' chest, marking him like a painter would a canvas. Red and pink blotches that will darken in hues of purple and gold. Like colors of royalty, almost.

Though Ross prefers the idea of being the royal's pet instead of the other way around. He snorts in amusement at the thought.

Trott caresses down Ross’ chest and sides. His lips find their way to the divot of Ross' hips, and worry marks into the skin.

Ross basks in the feeling. His toes curl slightly at the pleasure and the pain in each bite and nip. Lying back and letting Trott work him as he wants, move him as he wants, is immensely satisfying. He has no obligations or projects in this moment. Only to be used as Trott wishes, and as they'd agreed upon.

Ross is wide awake by now, too focused on Trott's hand as it tugs his boxer briefs off and wraps around his growing erection. Trott's thumb rubs underneath the head of his dick, and Ross' hips jerk up involuntarily.

Trott grins. "Every time." he teases, kissing each of Ross’ ribs. He focuses his touch on that same spot.

Ross lets out a soft moan, letting his eyes flutter shut. It's almost on the side of too much sensation. He wrings his hands in the sheets. "Oh fuck, Trott..."

“Tell me,” Trott reminds him, continuing his attention.

Ross bites his lip. “So good. Trott. Please…” His feet shift under the covers as he tries to keep from bucking his hips.

Trott lets go, and Ross whimpers at the loss.

"You're fidgeting." He leans over Ross to reach the lube on the bedside table, and pecks a kiss to the infinity charm on the collar around Ross' neck.

"Sorry..." Ross murmurs, smiling, "It's not easy when it feels so good. I told you I’m not good at staying still." They'd been trying to satisfy Ross' craving for a sleepy fuck, but Ross always became too alert to stay in that drowsy state for long.

"You and your squirming.” Trott smirks. “Should I tie you down, then?"

Ross hums as Trott slicks up his fingers. "Next time. Maybe...you could pin my shoulders to the mattress?"

"Sure thing, sunshine." Trott leans over and kisses him again. His fingers work him open, gently, slowly, and Ross lets his legs be pliant as Trott hefts them over his shoulders. The position gives Trott a deeper angle, and Ross moans loudly when his fingers crook inside him. White-hot pleasure pulses under his skin with every curl of Trott’s fingers. Ross arches up off the sheets, begging in wordless gasps- he could come from this so easily, all Trott would have to do is pin his hips down and fuck him like this-

Trott stops his movements and Ross slumps back to the mattress, breathing heavily.

"Ready?" Trott asks, carefully removing his fingers. He shimmies off his sleep pants and pushes his boxers down to his knees.

"Yeah...fucking tease," Ross pants.

Trott grins wickedly. His hands pin Ross' shoulders to the bed as he presses himself slowly in. He moves closer until Ross is nearly bent double, knees to his chest, ankles hooked over each other in the middle of Trott's back. When Ross sighs and gives him the go ahead, Trott slowly starts thrusting. He nuzzles into Ross' neck, biting a mark under his jaw that makes Ross gasp softly.

Ross cants his hips up just the slightest and wordlessly begs Trott to fuck him harder, digging the heel of his foot into Trott’s spine. Pleasure sparks through him with every thrust. He tips his head back into the pillow, bearing his neck and moaning at the feeling of Trott's lips and teeth. Their heaving breath and the slap of skin are the only sounds that breaks the silence of the pre-dawn.

"Fuck, Ross," Trott muffles a curse in the hollow of his throat. His weight is pinning Ross to the bed, but he slows momentarily to shift around.

Ross whines, hands weakly grasping at the sheets. “Trott, fuck, please- _so good_. Please don’t stop-”

Trott places a hand in the middle of Ross' chest for leverage. One of Ross' legs slips off his shoulder and he adjusts the other to angle his thrusts again.

Ross chokes out a moan as Trott grinds his hips forward, hitting the perfect spot inside him.

"That's it," Trott praises breathlessly, "You're going to come for me now, aren't you?" He wraps his free hand around Ross' dick and strokes him quickly, picking up the speed again on his thrusts.

"Fuck, Trott- _Trott-_ " Ross' hips jerk upwards. His fingers scrabble for purchase in the sheets.

Trott shushes him and fucks him harder, moaning and grinning a little at the metallic shaking of the bedframe and Ross' muffled cries. He leans closer and licks the shell of Ross’ ear. "So good for me, Ross. That's my good boy. Go on."

Trott's voice sounds so good at his ear; his breath warm; his tone rumbling with arousal. It's the words that tip Ross over, the praise, that makes him come hard with a sharp gasp. The feeling shudders through him, pleasure whiting out his vision with the intensity, as Trott's continued ministrations wrench every bit of energy out of him.

Ross is dizzy when it's over with- eyes bleary; limbs weightless beside him; both too heavy to move.

"Fuck," Trott hisses, dropping Ross' leg from his shoulder and quickly fucking into him a last few times. Ross doesn't have any breath to moan, the pleasure oversensitive on the point of painful, but too good to object. Truly, Trott could fuck him again, and Ross wouldn’t complain in the slightest.

Trott's fingers cling hard to Ross' hips, hard enough to bruise, and his hair falls in his eyes as he doubles over in effort. His shoulders shake with his own climax, his mouth falling open in a silent gasp. "Ff-fuck..." he pants, grinding his hips forward gently with a sigh, chest heaving, "Oh, _fuck_."

Ross watches Trott's hips stutter and still.

It's just them breathing in the quiet.

He lets his eyes slip shut, a pleased smile on his face, blissfully warm and content. He feels Trott pull out and get up, puttering to the bathroom down the hall and coming back to clean him up. When all that is finished, Trott slides into bed beside him and pulls the sheets back around them. He tucks the covers in, and Ross nearly moans at the security and surety he feels in the afterglow.

"Trott..." Ross breathes. It's an immense effort to turn his head in Trott's direction, but when he does he's rewarded with his nose in Trott's hair and the familiar and calming smell of his shampoo. Orange and cedarwood. It’s one of Trott’s many indulgences from Bath & Body Works. “Stupidly expensive crap, when you could get five times the amount for less money,” according to Smith, but Ross doesn’t care what Trott buys with his paycheck. It smells good on him, anyway.

Trott cuddles closer to him with a quiet hum. "...You're welcome, sunshine," he mumbles into Ross’ chest, knowing what he was going to say before he said it.

Ross smiles. Sleep comes easily, and he's ever the more thankful to have Trott in his arms.


End file.
